


By Its Own Arrows

by Burr_Shot_First



Series: Growing Up Udonta [4]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Dad Yondu, Gen, Human Trafficking, It's a Bad Ravager, It's not Yondu who Hurts Peter, Kid Peter Quill, Mentions of Slavery, Teen Peter Quill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burr_Shot_First/pseuds/Burr_Shot_First
Summary: Peter's thirteen now, and he gets to help the Ravagers out on jobs sometimes. To him, this means he should be able to take care of himself.Or,One of the Ravagers gets jealous of Peter and starts hurting him. He doesn't tell anyone, and nobody notices until it's almost too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, one of the themes in this story is child abuse- the description of it is fairly non-graphic, but it's definitely there. In this chapter, Peter is violently shoved and threatened. I just wanted to give a warning in case anyone is upset by this material. Please, look out for yourselves when reading!  
> This is more angsty than my other works, but I promise there will be lots of fluff and comfort at the end.
> 
> Also- I definitely could not think of a good name for this fic, but I wanted to go ahead and post it. If you wanna make a suggestion for the title, comment or shoot me a message! Whichever idea I go with, I'll give the person credit.

“Whaddya got, Pete?” Yondu said urgently. At thirteen years old, Yondu was finally letting Peter accompany the crew on missions. They kept him well away from any of the real action, but they trusted him to act as lookout. This was one of the most important jobs Peter had ever been on; if they managed to steal the artifact, they’d be getting a score close to half a million units.

“There’s about a dozen Nova officers on the roof adjacent to the market, but they don’t seem too attentive. They look like they’re here mainly for crowd control. If you hurry, you- shit!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?”

“The officers spotted me. I’ve been made- _keep going_!” Peter exclaimed. He stopped talking just as two of the guards made it to the roof.

“What are you doing up here, son?” one of the guards asked seriously. “This area’s off-limits.” Peter looked much younger than thirteen years old, and he knew it. He decided to play that up- not for the first time.

“Sorry, mister, I came to watch the parade with Kraglin, only I got lost. I thought if I came up here I might see him, but I can’t find him,” Peter said with a pout, conjuring a few crocodile tears for good measure. He’d intentionally left his comm on, hoping the rest of the crew would take the hint and not only catch his location, but keep their mouths shut. The officers smiled kindly at him.

“Hey, buddy, it’s gonna be okay. What’s your name?”

“I’m Peter, but Papa calls me Pete.”

“Okay, Peter. My name’s Rhomann Dey, and my parter’s name is Sharif. We’re going to help you find- Kraglin is it?” Peter nodded.

“He’s my big brother.” He knew that Kraglin was rolling his eyes at that proclamation.

“Okay, buddy. We’ll head down to the Nova Corp tent, and we’ll have them make an announcement so Kraglin can come find you.”

“The Nova Corp tent? Where’s that?” Peter asked intentionally. The crew wasn’t that thick, but he wanted to make finding him easier on them. He didn’t wanna give Oro a reason to complain that he’d cost them time. Kraglin would already be on his way to find him; Peter was just giving him a little extra help. After Dey gave him a descriptive enough answer, he surreptitiously shut off his comm so that Yondu could give orders and hash out the crew’s next steps. Peter knew Yondu would come to get him himself, except his face was relatively well-known to most of the Nova Corp. There’s no way they’d release a kid into the Ravager Captain’s custody.

As they walked past the parade, Peter was honestly impressed by the display. It was an intergalactic holiday, and species of all kinds were participating in different cultural displays. A Kree choir was singing, a Centaurian group displayed impressive weapons drills, and the Sovereign... Well, they basically just stood around looking self-absorbed, but it was still interesting.

When they got to the tent, they sat Peter down and gave him a snack and a juice box. Most of the time, it was irritating that he looked so much younger- like a ten year old, tops- but in situations like this, it was helpful. As much as he would like to be involved on a real mission, he was glad that he could at least be useful playing the “helpless little kid” card.

“Peter!” Kraglin yelled, entering the tent. Peter jumped up, running towards him.

“Krag!” Kraglin pulled him into a hug, ruffling his hair.

“I was worried sick about you, kid. Ain’t I told you to stay right by me?” Peter ducked his head, hiding a grin.

“I saw a puppy, Krag...” he whined. “I only looked at ‘im a minute, and then you were gone.” Kraglin sighed, keeping Peter close.

“What am I gonna do with you, Petey? Huh?” Peter wrapped his arms around him and placed a kiss on his cheek. The hug would have been enough, but Peter liked to piss him off. Kraglin hated physical contact. “Thank you so much for looking after him, officers. I swear, I oughta put him on a leash...”

“No problem,” Corpsman Dey said with a smirk. He’d been watching the scene in amusement. “Just glad we could get him back to you. Something tells me the kid keeps you on your toes.” Kraglin snorted.

“Yeah, no kidding. Anyway, thanks.” Kraglin kept a firm arm around Peter’s shoulders until they were out of sight of the Nova Corp. Then, he shoved the kid off and thumped him on the head. 

“Seriously, Pete? Kissin’ me on the cheek? You did that _just_ to be a pain!”

“Ow!” Peter said, rubbing his scalp. “’S not my fault you’re incapable of participating in normal human touch!” Kraglin rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. Anyways, you did good, kid.” Peter frowned.

“I got made.” Kraglin shrugged.

“Happens to the best of us. Weren’t your fault. Anyway, it worked out for the best. The distraction meant we got in and out with the artifact, easy-peasy. Smart of you to keep the comms on, though. Made finding you a hell of a lot easier.”

“So you got it?” Peter asked eagerly.  Kraglin snorted.

“Yeah, we got it. What’re you so eager for, anyway? You ain’t usually this greedy.”

“Dad said I could have my own ship when I’m fourteen. That’s less than six months, Krag. My share’s going towards my own M-ship,” he said proudly.

“He’ll getchu a ship,” Kraglin told him, snorting. Peter shrugged. Sure, Yondu got him the odd toy or game, but Peter had never asked for something this big. He preferred not to gamble on Yondu’s generosity. He’d been waiting for his own ship since he was four years old.

“Maybe... But if he don’t, I’d be ship outta luck, right?” Peter said. He couldn’t even finish his sentence before he started laughing hysterically. Kraglin cracked a smile.

“Funny. But he ain’t exactly denied you anything before, has he?”

“He wouldn’t let me get a dog,” Peter pointed out.

“You were four,” Kraglin said drily. “He already had one dumb pet that was loud and pissed and shit everywhere.” Peter shoved him, but the older man had bulked up recently- he didn’t move.

“I was completely toilet-trained well before I came, thank you,” he said haughtily.

“You ain’t denying the dumb and loud part?” Peter thought about it, then shook his head.

“All kids are dumb and loud,” he decided. Kraglin laughed.

Yondu pulled Peter into a hug when they made it back onto the ship, lifting him off the ground. He had to be ecstatic to give this kind of display; though he’d gotten better over the years, Yondu still wasn’t very demonstrative unless he knew Peter needed it.

“You done a damn good job, boy.” Several of the other Ravagers- who were emotionally constipated at the best of times- clapped him on the back and echoed the sentiments. “Tonight, we drink!” Yondu shouted to the crew.

Peter was always vaguely amused by the Ravagers’ drinking binges. He never had any himself- Yondu had never forbidden it simply because he didn’t think he needed to address it.

Peter had asked Kraglin if he could try his drink once, and surprisingly, Kraglin agreed. Peter had immediately spat it back out, to the man’s endless amusement. Peter suspected Kraglin knew he wouldn’t like it.

Still, these nights were fun for Peter. They often played cards, and Peter taught them what he remembered of games he’d played with his mother... Go Fish, Uno. He always had the impression that he was mixing up the rules a bit, but none of the crew ever knew or cared.

He was sitting on the floor, playing a game on his pad and leaning idly against Yondu’s knee. After his fourth yawn, Yondu nudged him.

“Hey, I was comfy!” Peter complained.

“Bed, squirt. I ain’t carrying you again.” Peter considered protesting that remark, but considering it really hadn’t been all that long since Yondu carried him to bed, he let it go.

“I ain’t tired,” he complained, but he got up anyway. He didn’t often disobey his dad, but he had to at least pretend to be annoyed.

“G’night, son,” Yondu told him.

“’Night, Dad. Night, Krag,” Peter called. Kraglin was three sheets to the wind- Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen him this drunk in his life.

“Petey,” he slurred, “you really did it boy. You’re a real good kid, ya know that?” Kraglin pulled him into a sloppy hug.

“Yeah, yeah. Geez, you’re drunk,” Peter laughed. Horuz snorted.

“Boy never could hold his liquor.” Kraglin seemed to take this as a challenge, and as Peter left the room, he was downing an entire bottle of Xandarian whiskey.

Peter was contemplating waking Kraglin up in the morning by blaring “Hooked on a Feeling” just to be a pest, when he passed Oro. He sighed. Oro had joined up just a couple of months ago, and he seemed to have a bug up his ass when it came to Peter.

Peter thought maybe it was because he had his own room, which none of the crew had ever begrudged him before- most were glad they didn’t have to hear his music late at night. Oro probably also resented that Yondu and the crew favored Peter. Most of the crew didn’t mind- even the newer ones understood that Peter had been a toddler when he’d first come on board the ship, and if nothing else, they treated him well because he was Yondu’s kid.

Regardless of the reason, Peter had definitely picked up on Oro’s resentment of him, and so he’d tried to keep his distance. Oro made him uneasy. The crew all teased him, but Peter accepted it for what it was- kidding. Oro’s comments seemed more vicious, cruel.

Peter hadn’t said anything to Yondu; he didn’t want to seem whiney. Plus, he knew that if Yondu got involved, it wouldn’t end well for Oro. As annoying as he was, Peter didn’t want him dead.

Peter tried to pass him with a nod, but Oro slammed into him with his shoulder.

“Watch it, brat,” he warned. Peter tried to brace himself, but Oro was bulky, and he bounced off of the man's shoulder and into the wall.

“What’s your problem?” Peter spat before he could stop himself. Oro pushed him into the wall, his elbow digging slightly into Peter’s throat. “Get... offa me!” Peter gasped.

“You stay outta my way, runt. Or else I might not stay outta yours.” With that, Oro stalked off. Peter panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He’d gotten the odd shove from Oro before, but nothing like this. Nothing that couldn’t be passed off as accidental.

 _I should tell Dad,_ he thought. _Or even Kraglin. But I don’t need them fighting my battles for me all the time..._

He’d give it a few weeks and see what happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pals! So, warnings for this chapter- Peter gets punched in the face. As always, please be careful reading and look out for yourself in terms of questionable material.  
> Also- shout-out to izzybelw. I used their idea for the title of this work. The full quote is "Envy slays itself by its own arrows." To be frank, I didn't know what it meant, so I scoured the Internet for nearly five whole minutes and did not find anything. Still, I thought it sounded cool so I went with it.  
> Edited for clarity- In other words, I should stop updating and writing author's notes at three am.

Everyone slept late the next morning, so when Peter rose at seven he was the first one up. He took his time showering and getting dressed- a luxury he didn’t often have. He frowned at the bruise evident on his chest. Oro had hit him hard. Really, he’d gotten lucky by getting up and showering before any of the rest of the crew. They might complain about him, but they were as protective of him as Yondu was. Sometimes, even more so.

He ambled into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Looking through the ingredients in the pantry, he decided to make pancakes.  Several years ago, in an attempt to get Peter to reconnect with his Terran heritage, Kraglin had compiled various stories, movies, and recipes onto a pad for him. Sometimes it was painful, experiencing all of the things that he missed, but other times it was pretty rad. He had vague memories of his mom making him pancakes when he was little, and times like these, he felt a little closer to her.

He had to substitute lots of the ingredients for weird space ones, but it was essentially the same. He was feeling generous, so he made enough for the rest of the crew- most of them liked his cooking pretty well. Plus, Peter had seen how wasted Cook was last night- the old man would definitely appreciate the break. He even put on a couple pots of coffee. The crew drank an exorbitant amount on a regular basis; after a drinking binge, even more. Unsurprisingly, Kraglin was the first to show up that morning.

“You look like shit,” Peter said frankly.

“Well, I feel like- hey, language!” Kraglin chided. Peter rolled his eyes.

“I made pancakes. And coffee.” Kraglin thought for a moment.

“I love you,” he declared, practically moaning over the scent of the coffee.

“Geez, you two need a room?” Peter asked, rolling his eyes. Kraglin gave him the finger as he fixed a cup of coffee. Because no one else was around, he made it how he liked- with lots of sugar and milk. Peter thought it was such a stupid thing to be self-conscious about, but if any of the other crew was around, Kraglin drank it black.

The rest of the crew trickled in slowly, most of them thanking Peter for breakfast, sometimes with a pat on the back or a nod. Yondu wasn’t much of a morning person, but when he came in to the pancakes that he knew Peter must have made, he ruffled his hair. Peter had known Yondu long enough to know that that constituted a very sincere ‘thank you.’

Unfortunately, Oro walked in at that moment, and he scowled at the display. Peter supposed that to someone with a chip on their shoulder already, the sight of the entire crew thanking him could be a bit irritating.

“Pete made breakfast, Oro,” Exel told him from the corner. The Ravagers could be a tough group, but they tried to look out for new recruits, particularly the younger ones.

“It’s good. Sweet, but good,” Sparta added. Oro grunted something indecipherable. He fixed a plate and sank down on the opposite end of the cafeteria. No one but Horuz noticed Peter’s sigh of relief at that. Oro tasted the pancakes and frowned.

“That shit’s disgusting,” he declared. The room went silent. Peter saw Yondu glance at him, asking what he wanted him to do, but Peter just shook his head. The last thing he needed was Yondu chewing Oro out for being a little rude to him. Finally, Kraglin spoke up.

“You don’t like it, don’t eat it. But when someone else makes the food for your sorry ass, you sure as hell don’t criticize it.” The other Ravagers muttered similar replies. Oro just glared down at his plate, but Peter knew the other man would find a way to blame this display on him.

“If you aren’t going to eat it, then I will!” Fordin said exuberantly, grabbing Oro’s plate and enthusiastically devouring the pancakes. Peter gave him a weak smile, knowing he was trying to make Peter feel better, but he was just digging him into a deeper hole. He knew Oro would give him hell for this scene later; why wouldn’t the man just leave him alone? As much as he appreciated the other Ravagers sticking up for him, he dreaded what Oro would do to retaliate.

He decided to stick close to Yondu or Kraglin for the day. Oro wouldn’t dare do anything in front of them.

“Pete, why don’t you work in the engine room for a while today? Shaz’s got some repairs that need doin’, and it’d be good for you to get the experience,” Yondu told him. He hadn’t missed the way the kid practically salivated over the M-Ships in the hangar bay. If he was going to get the kid a ship, he wanted to be sure he could handle it first.

Peter nodded while trying to suppress a groan. That shot his plan to hell. Still, he might be okay. Shaz could get pretty zoned out when he was working on a project, but Oro should know to stay away.

“Hey Pete! It’s your lucky day, this is a real interesting repair, great time for you to learn. See, this wire here...” Peter relaxed into the familiarity of a lecture on mechanics. He’d spent time working in all areas of the ship, so the problem here was a little challenging, but nothing too difficult for him. After a couple hours, he and Shaz had the wiring problem fixed. Peter knew it could have been done faster if Shaz had worked alone, but he appreciated that the older man was letting him figure out the problem with minimal help.

“Thanks, Shaz,” Peter said sincerely. The older man grinned, a twinkle in his eyes.

“No problem, Pete. Hope this knowledge proves useful to ya.” Peter wondered what he could have meant by that when he sees Oro walk in the room. _Shit._

“Hey Pete,” he says in a false-friendly tone. When he’s sure Shaz isn’t looking at him, he gives Peter a leer. “Cap’n wants you helpin’ me with the vents.”

“Ah, yes,” Shaz said absent-mindedly, fiddling with some wires. “Dirty job, but it must be done.” Peter bit his lip.

“You sure you don’t need my help anymore, Shaz?” he asked, trying not to sound desperate. Shaz shook his head.

“No, thanks, you’ve helped me plenty this morning. I’ve just got a bit of tinkering to do... Better run along now and do as your father asks,” he said distractedly. Peter sighed.

“Thanks, Shaz,” he said again, and while he wished the older man would have let him stay, he still meant it. Oro grabbed Peter by the arm in a painful grip, leading him into a seldom-used alcove where it was unlikely they’d be overheard.

“My dad really say to help you?” Peter asked, unimpressed. Oro grinned dangerously.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Peter said nothing, frowning. “You made me look damned stupid today, boy,” he said, and Peter shuddered. Only Yondu could call him ‘boy’; from his dad it was an affectionate nickname, but from anyone else it was dehumanizing.

“You did that yourself,” Peter said, which in hindsight, was pretty stupid. Oro hauled off and socked him in the face, hard enough that Peter tasted a little blood.

“What’d you do that for?” Peter asked in slight amazement. He'd had no idea the other man could be so stupid.

“You oughta learn when to shut your damn mouth,” Oro muttered. “You may got the rest o’ the crew under your spell, but you’re just an orphaned runt.” Peter ignored that comment and rolled his eyes.

“Maybe so, but at least I ain’t stupid enough to hit the Captain’s son across the face. What do you think he’s gonna do when I tell him what happened, huh?” Oro actually looked a little worried at that prospect. The bastard hadn’t exactly thought it through.

“He won’t believe you,” he said desperately. “You’re just a kid, and I’m an adult. They won’t listen!” Peter glared at him.

“You and I both know that’s not true. But because I’m nice, I won’t tell him. That is, if you promise to leave me the hell alone.” Oro stared at him.

“You ain’t gonna say nothing,” he said, trying to sound confidently. Peter nodded tiredly.

“I'll stay quiet so long as you leave me be.” Oro released him after a moment, looking at him warily, as if Peter might suddenly start shouting “abuse.” Peter rubbed his arm. Oro wasn’t messing around. Peter felt his face, and he winced at how tender it was. How was he going to explain the giant bruise forming on his face?

He sighed. He’d have to rely on his acting skills- and he’d never been very good at lying to Yondu. _You could just tell him_ , a voice in his head that sounded a little like Kraglin told him. No. He could take care of it himself. And hadn’t he just made Oro stop? It was over.

Later that night, he walked onto the bridge looking sheepish, ensuring that he’d draw attention to himself. He’d seen the bruise in the mirror, and it wasn’t something that would go unnoticed.

“What the hell happened to your face?” Yondu demanded.

“Nothing, I’m fine!” Peter protested, intentionally making his voice awkward. As expected, Yondu caught him by the arm and immediately started examining his face.

“Did someone hit you?” he demanded angrily. Peter shrugged him off.

“Relax, old man, I’m fine. Don’t you think you’d know if somebody hit me?” Yondu relaxed a little at that. He clearly didn’t expect Peter to lie to him.

“Then what did happen?” Peter gave a small, embarrassed grin.

“If I tell you, I’ll never hear the end of it,” he said in a long-suffering voice. Yondu rolled his eyes.

“Out with it.” Peter sighed.

“I tripped over my boots and hit the door, all right? You were right, I should pick up my room. Happy?” Yondu snorted.

“Yeah, maybe you’ll listen next time I tell you to pick up your shit. It’s a flarkin’ health hazard,” he laughed. He looked at Peter carefully. “You go get some ice on that.” Peter nodded.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and headed out of the room.

“I mean it!” Yondu called after him exasperatedly.

“Cap’n,” Kraglin asked hesitantly. Yondu gave an answering grunt. “You really reckon he ran into the wall?” Yondu paused.           

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I do. But we’ll keep an eye on him, just in case.”

“Quill!” Horuz barked as he left the bridge. Peter startled. He _knew_ he hadn’t done anything to annoy Horuz recently.

“Huh?” Horuz laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Peter very nearly flinched at that, reminded of Oro cornering him in the halls.

“Somebody hurting you?” Horuz asked sternly. Peter shook his head, giving a small laugh.

“No, Horuz. I’m just clumsy; you know that.” Horuz grunted.

“You sure?” This was an out- as gruff as Horuz was, Peter knew that he could say the word and he’d kill Oro, kick him off the ship, or throw him in the brig, no questions asked. He probably wouldn’t even tell Yondu, unless Peter wanted him to. Horuz was grumpy, but he was one of the most reliable Ravagers on the ship. 

“I’m sure,” Peter said after a moment. Horuz looked him over.

“Fine. But if you run into any more 'walls', you let me know. Clear?” Peter sighed and nodded. Maybe he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought. At least Horuz was giving him space, not treating him like a child.

He was practically an adult, now. He could totally handle himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I really do love Peter Quill! He deserves all the best things in life and this really will have a happy ending.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of slavery, and human trafficking. Peter gets punched in the face.  
> Be safe while reading, friends.

After another successful job, Yondu had decided to give the crew a couple days’ leave. Peter was excited because the planet they were landing on had several major ship dealers. He wanted to look around, get an idea for what he wanted (and maybe drop some totally obvious hints to his dad).

The first night, though, as always, the Ravagers got drunk. Peter played poker with some of the other men, surprisingly adept at the card game. He was an awful liar, but somehow he consistently emptied the pockets of the Ravagers who were naive enough to play against him. He’d just laid down a straight flush when someone set a drink down in front of him- he wasn’t terribly well-versed in alcohol, but he knew it was a beer or an ale. He looked at it confusedly. He knew he definitely didn’t look old enough to drink. The bouncer had barely let Peter in, only reluctantly allowing him entrance with the promise from Yondu that he’d be well-looked after. So why was someone getting him a drink?

He looked up, and his heart dropped. The drink was from Oro.

“Hey, Pete. Consider this an apology for the whole pancakes thing,” Oro said, with a grin that looked more like a leer.

“Thanks,” Peter said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well? You gonna drink it?” Oro asked impatiently. Peter gave a small shrug, turning to Yondu. The Centaurian wasn’t playing poker (he knew better than to bet against Peter) but he was seated close enough to have witnessed the conversation.

“Kid's thirteen. Not tonight,” Yondu drawled. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly feeling exhausted. He was pretty tired of constantly being in fear of Oro accosting him. He tried to ignore the feeling, focusing on the game. He lost a few rounds, and won several more before Yondu noticed he was out of sorts.

“You okay, son?"

"'M fine. Just a bit tired," Peter said. He didn't have to fake the yawn that followed.

"Might be it’s about time for you to head back to the ship, kid,” Yondu said with a note of concern. “Kraglin, walk him back, wouldja?” Yondu called. Kraglin jumped up, not quite drunk but more than a little tipsy. He swayed from side to side a bit as he walked over to Yondu and Peter.

"I can walk myself," Peter muttered.

"Kind of a seedy town, Pete. I'd rather you didn't."

“Come on, Petey,” Kraglin slurred. “Le’s go!” Yondu snorted. He was way too drunk to walk Peter back.

“Never mind, Kraglin. I’ll take him,” Yondu said.

“I’ll walk ‘im back, Cap’n,” Oro offered. Yondu gave him a shrewd look. The man was relatively new to the crew, and he’d only been around a few months. He seemed like a good worker though, and other than the odd incident in the galley the other day, he seemed nice enough. 

“That okay, Pete?” he asked quietly. Peter nodded, feeling sick. He knew if he told Yondu, the whole problem would be over in a minute... He couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t do it.

Yondu sent him on his way with a pat on the back and a promise to stop by some of the dealerships the next day. Peter tried to focus on that rather than on who he was with, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to think.

“I didn't tell them," he said weakly. Oro chuckled, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder.

“Yeah, that was pretty stupid of you. Means no one'll even know to be suspicious.” 

"Suspicious of what?" Peter asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"You know, it would have been a lot easier if Yondu would've let you have the drink. Would'a knocked you out, nice and easy. Can't say I didn't try to be  _nice._ "

“You _dick_ ,” Peter managed to say before Oro punched him solidly in the face, knocking him out.

 

When he woke up, he was in some sort of holding cell.

“Hello!” he called. “Anyone there?” A guard appeared immediately.

“Be quiet,” the man said idly, but there was no malice in his tone. Peter took a deep breath.

“Sure,” he said. “Sure, I can be quiet, only I was wonderin’ if you could tell me how I got here?” The man sighed.

“Boss said you were valuable. He bought you off of some Ravager. Plans on selling you to the highest bidder.” Peter swallowed hard.

“So I’m gonna be a slave?” The man shrugged.

“You’re pretty scrawny. You’ll be some sort of pet, more like. What did you say you were again?”

“I didn’t,” Peter said shortly. Yondu always tried to pass Peter off as Xandarian, and it worked for folks who didn’t look too close. Being Terran was dangerous, especially in this part of the galaxy, where it was rare.

If Peter got out of here, he’d tell Yondu he was right every day for a month.

“Suit yourself, kid,” the guard said, moving to walk away.

“Wait!” Peter said desperately. He tried to calm down a bit. “How’s about you let me go, huh? Just slip me a key, point me towards the exit, and nobody has to get hurt,” he said. The guard laughed.

“What, you think you can hurt me?”

“No,” Peter said honestly. “But my dad will. You ever heard of Yondu Udonta?” The guard paused for a moment, recognizing the name.

“You don’t look Centaurian to me,” he said carefully. Peter rolled his eyes.

“I’m adopted, jackass.” The guard shook his head, obviously not believing him.

“Yeah, right. You’re tellin’ me the Captain of the Ravagers adopted you.” Peter shrugged.

“Whatever man. Your funeral. Oh, and I do mean that literally,” he added. The guard paused, as if he was about to say something, then stopped as someone else walked into the room. He was tall, and old, with dark blue skin. He wore a black leather jacket, and his whole demeanor screamed danger.  

“Ah, the little Terran’s up, is he? Good. He must be bathed and dressed before tonight.”

“If you brought me back, I bet my dad would pay you whatever you think you’ll get for me. And that’d save you from getting’ an arrow through your neck, too,” Peter added. The man laughed coldly.

“Cute. But that’s your one free pass. Any more of that mouth, I might not feel so generous. Got it?” he asked in a dangerous voice. Peter nodded quickly. As much as Yondu and the rest of the Ravagers tried to shelter him, he’d met men like this before, and they were dangerous. For once in his life, he did the smart thing, and he shut his mouth.

 

"Captain," Horuz said quietly. "There's something you gotta know." Yondu raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"I'da told you before, but the boy wanted to take care of it himself." Yondu narrowed his eyes.

"The fuck you talkin' about?" 

"I ain't sure... but I think maybe Oro's hurtin' him. He gets real uneasy around him, Captain." 

"Shit," Yondu swore furiously, jumping up and heading for the door. "Why the hell didn't you say something sooner?" 

"I wasn't sure. Tried to get him to talk to me, but he didn't seem too keen on my help." Yondu was too furious to form words. The fucker had known, and done nothing? He thought about putting an arrow through his first mate's skull, but he didn't have time for that. He needed to find Peter.

Plus, something told him that maybe he'd be a little less upset with Horuz when his anger found the proper source. 

Back on the ship, he checked Peter's room first.

_Okay, that’s not the end of the world,_ Yondu told himself when he found it empty. Peter’s old cot was still in Yondu’s room, and Peter slept in it occasionally, usually after a nightmare. Or he could be in the mess, getting a midnight snack- that was a pretty regular occurrence, too. He could even be hiding out in the vents- when he was little, it was his go-to spot when he was scared, but now, Peter often liked it for the silence. Yondu tried to tamp down on his steadily increasing panic.

Yondu checked all of these places, and he came up short. He decided to comm him.

“Peter?” He got no answer. “Peter, you better pick up if you know what’s good for you. Peter?” He got no answer. “Peter Jason Quill!” he bellowed, trying to tamp down his panic. He ran down to the bunks where the junior crew members stayed. He cursed loudly in Centaurian. Oro’s bunk was empty. Whatever he’d done with Peter, he hadn’t planned on returning to the Eclector, period. 

“Horuz?” The other man picked up immediately.

“Captain?”

“Horuz, Oro's taken him somewhere. Take whoever’s sober enough and search the city.”

“Aye, Captain,” Horuz said promptly. He knew he'd gotten off lightly with Yondu, and he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Cap’n!” Kraglin called, running out of the bar. Remarkably, he seemed to have sobered up in the last twenty minutes. If there was anyone as concerned about Peter as Yondu, it would be Kraglin. “Have you seen him?”

“Not since he left the bar,” Yondu said grimly. “You know anything about Oro? Where he might have taken him?” Kraglin shrugged helplessly. “His bunk’s empty. Whatever he did, he knew he wasn’t gonna be welcome back on the ship.”

“I’ll search the docks. You search the city,” Kraglin said. If it were any other time, Yondu might have chided him for giving the Captain orders, but he had more important things to deal with. Besides, Kraglin’s plan was solid. Oro would probably want to escape before his misdeed was discovered.

“Captain, I’ve got him!” Horuz called over the comms. Yondu fumbled with the button.

“You got Peter? How is he?” he asked urgently. There was a pause.

“Sorry, Captain. I meant Oro.” Yondu wanted to strangle him, but he managed to compose himself.

“Is he talkin’?”

“Not a word.” Yondu smiled grimly.

“Bring him my way. We’ll have to fix that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments. They definitely inspire me to write more and they make me so so happy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, warnings for child abuse. Peter gets slapped in the face. Stay safe while reading, friends. And I promise the next chapter will be much happier because my poor baby Peter deserves lots of love!

Yondu had significant experience with torture- both sides of it. As such, he knew he’d be able to make Oro talk. It wasn’t a matter of if, but _when._ However, he really didn’t have time for that. So when he walked into the dirty room his men had rented to stash Oro in ( _Smart, Horuz)_ , he cut right to the chase.

“What the _fuck_ did you do with my boy?” he asked, punching him squarely in the face. Oro would have fallen over from the blow if he hadn’t been tied to the chair. He spat blood on the floor before giving Yondu a savage grin.

“You ain’t never gonna-” He was interrupted by Yondu starting to whistle, directing his arrow at the other man’s throat. “Go ahead, kill me. You’ll never find him if you do,” the man taunted. Yondu would have liked to work out every bit of his aggression on the other man by using his fists, but there wasn’t time for that. He’d have to settle for the slightly less personal use of his arrow.

“Oh, I’ll kill ya,” Yondu drawled, “but not yet. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be beggin’ me to kill ya.” Oro looked a little less brave at that, but he still said nothing. Yondu glared at him. He didn’t have time for this, he needed to get to Peter... He whistled again, sending the arrow clean through the other man’s leg. Oro screamed in pain. “Tell me where he is, _now,_ and I might kill you quickly.” Oro seemed to be trying to catch his breath, but he wasn’t fast enough for Yondu’s liking, so he gave him a matching hole through the other leg. “Do I look like I’m feeling fucking _patient_ right now?” he snarled. Oro breathed quickly, trying to speak.

“He’s... He’s in the basement of the hotel, the swanky one in the do-downtown district,” Oro gasped. “I so-sold him...” Yondu wanted to hit him again, but he needed him to keep talking.

“To who?” Yondu bellowed. “ _Who did you sell him to?”_

“His n-name was Oc-Octavius,” Oro stammered. Yondu swore loudly. He knew that name. If he’d been worried about Peter before, now he was _terrified._

“Well, Oro, you’re lucky I ain’t got time to give you what you deserve,” Yondu said, sending the arrow through his forehead, killing him instantly. He turned to his crew, who were already readying themselves to move. “Let’s go get my boy.”

 

The guard stayed silent as he handed Peter new clothes and a wash basin. There was a white, loose tunic and similarly fitted pants. He was given no shoes, but the guard made him remove his own. Panicked, Peter had tried to hide his Walkman, but the guard gave him a nod. He let Peter stuff it in his pocket without comment.

After that, he was led into a brightly-lit room. A few dozen well-dressed people sat in chairs facing the stage he was led on. When he looked closer, Peter saw that they were all holding some sort of sign. _Placards,_ his brain supplied. He was at an auction- an auction where people were going to be bidding on _him._

He forced himself to calm down. Yondu would come for him soon. He and the rest of the Ravagers were probably already on their way. The man from earlier was standing on the stage, and he grabbed a mic.

“Ladies and gentleman, as you can see here, we have a fine Terran specimen. He is in peak physical condition, approximately eight years old-” Peter snorted. He couldn’t help it, he was definitely _not_ eight. The other man didn’t seem amused at being interrupted. “Quiet, brat,” he hissed, slapping Peter across the face. Peter was stunned by the blow- he truly hadn’t seen it coming, though he probably should have. He nearly fell over, but the man’s hand yanked his collar to keep him upright. “Forgive the interruption; the boy is young. However, his teeth are in excellent condition-” Here he squeezed Peter’s jaw, forcing him to open his mouth.

“Perhaps we could hear the boy speak,” one woman from the audience suggested. The man with the jacket gave Peter a rough shake.

“Go on, boy.” Peter bristled at the name. No one called him ‘boy’ but Yondu.

“My name is Peter Quill. I’m thirteen years old, by the way. And my dad’s gonna kick your ass.” The bidders started muttering to themselves as the auctioneer raised his hand to mete out punishment. Peter winced, squeezing his eyes closed.

“You’ll lower that hand if’n you know what’s good for ya,” A familiar voice drawled.

“Dad!” Peter yelled in relief. Yondu began whistling, sending his arrow straight towards the auctioneers throat. Strangely, the man grinned.

“Yondu Udonta. Is that really you?” he asked in a mocking tone. “You’ve grown since I’ve last seen you, but you’re still the frightened, weak child you were all those years ago.” Yondu ignored him, motioning for Peter to join him. Quickly, the auctioneer grabbed Peter and shoved a blaster against his throat.

“Let me go!” Peter demanded, struggling in vain.

“Put him down, Octavius. Now,” Yondu growled.

“I don’t think I will. In fact, I think you’ll let the two of us walk out of here, unharmed. Otherwise, my clumsy finger might slip and fire this blaster, mightn’t it?” Yondu was clearly torn. There was no way he was letting Peter leave, but he couldn’t simply run the man through, either. Peter decided to make the decision for him.

Taking a cue from his toddler years, he craned his neck and bit the man on the arm, hard.

“Filthy brat!” Octavius snarled, shaking his hand out. He made to strike Peter, but Yondu had already sent the arrow through him. He was dead before he hit the floor.

“Peter, are you all right?” Yondu asked urgently, running towards the boy. The rest of the Ravagers began to take subdue the bidders- not that they gave much fight.

“I’m fine, Dad.” Yondu frowned as he gave the kid a once-over. Between Oro and Octavius, Peter had an impressive collection of bruises. He pulled Peter into a tight hug.

“Thought I’d lost you, boy,” he muttered. Peter gasped at the pressure against his back. “What?” Without waiting for an answer, Yondu tugged his shirttail up to examine him. He drew in a sharp breath. “What the flark happened to you, boy?” The bruises were a mottled blue green- clearly they were from before Peter was taken.

“Now ain’t really the time, is it?” Peter mumbled.

“We’re discussing this later,” Yondu said sternly. Peter nodded tiredly into his shoulder. Yondu gave him a moment, then stood up, pulling Peter with him. He lifted Peter into his arms- the kid clearly was in no shape to walk. Peter was tired enough that he didn’t protest being carried- that’s how Yondu _knew_ something was wrong.

Yondu had to settle him onto his hip like a child to avoid putting pressure on the bruises on Peter's back, which Peter rolled his eyes at. Still, the kid was tired enough that he wasn't complaining.

“They’re tying them up,” Peter noted in amazement. Yondu had a thing against killing in front of Peter- he only did it when absolutely necessary. Still, Peter had kind of expected Yondu to take him outside and then let the Ravagers burn the place to the ground. Yondu shrugged.

“Tipped off the Nova Corp to a trafficking situation here. They’ll be here to arrest the participants soon- don’t hurt that we get a nice little reward for turning them in.” Peter laughed a little at that. Something would be wrong if his dad didn’t find some way to profit out of all this- once he knew that Peter was safe, that was. Peter might have been offended, but he knew it was just Yondu’s weird way of trying to respect Peter’s wishes, even if he was profiting from it. Peter always looked for the outcomes with as little loss of life as possible.

Peter thought of the guard who had been kind to him- well, sort of kind. He hadn’t hurt him, and he’d looked like he might be considering letting Peter go...

When he voiced these thoughts to Yondu, the older man’s face darkened. “It don’t matter, Pete,” he said unsympathetically. “He was a part of it. He let it happen.”

“He said they wanted me as some sort of pet,” Peter said in a small voice. Yondu’s arm tightened around him.

“I’d never let that happen,” he promised.

“Dad?” Peter asked after a moment.

“Yes son?” he said patiently.

“How did that man Octavius know you?” Yondu sighed.

“When I was about your age, a group of Kree invaded my village. Killed my parents, and kidnapped me to sell me for a battle slave. That man, Octavius... he was the auctioneer that sold me.” Peter looked at him in shock. He knew Yondu didn’t like to talk about his childhood, but he had no idea his dad had been a slave.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. Yondu nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” They stayed silent until they got back to the Eclector. Kraglin was there waiting for them.

“Pete!” he shouted joyfully, running to meet them. He made to give Peter a giant hug, but Yondu warned him to be gentle. Kraglin settled for ruffling his hair.

“He’s got bruises on his back. Not sure what from, though,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Peter. Peter glared back.

“Geez, Dad. I’m clearly traumatized right now. You're making me relive my trauma,” he said with a pout. Kraglin made to thump him on the head, then thought better of it and just hugged him, very gently.

“Little brat. We were all so worried about you,” he said seriously. Peter sighed.

“I know, Krag.” Yondu patted Kraglin on the shoulder and tugged on Peter’s hand.

“Let’s get you to the Med Bay.” Peter slipped his hand into his father’s and let himself be led across the ship. Yondu motioned for Doc to leave. He knew enough about medicine to treat Peter’s bruises. Peter hopped up on the hospital bed that he’d long ago deemed his own. Sadly, he had a little too much experience in this room. Yondu took out a scanner, and Peter groaned.

“Dad, I’m fine. Just got a few bruises,” he protested.

“Yeah, well you ain’t said jack about those bruises, so forgive me if I don’t trust you to tell me if you’re hurt.” Peter looked stung by that remark.

“Thanks, Dad, that’s exactly what I needed to hear after the day I’ve had,” Peter snapped, angrily swiping a tear from his eye.

“Pete,” Yondu trailed off, setting down the scanner. He’d said the wrong thing; he realized that much. “I didn’t mean I don’t trust you. It’s just...” He sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that today. “I'm worried about you, Pete. Was Oro hurting you?” Peter looked away silently before giving a short, jerky nod. “How long?” Peter shrugged.

“Couple weeks, maybe. Wasn’t too bad. Shoved me a few times. He only hit me the once. Well, twice, I guess, when he knocked me out.” Yondu closed his eyes in anguish. How could he have missed it?

“So when you said you tripped over your boots...”

“Yeah.”

“Why, Peter?” Yondu asked, a touch of anger coloring his tone. Peter shrugged again.

“I think he was bitter I have my own room.” Yondu rolled his eyes.

“No, you brat, I meant _why didn’t you tell us?_ The moment you said something, I’da had him gone.”

“I know that,” Peter said irritably.

“Then why stay quiet? Why let him get away with hurting you?”

“ _I don’t know!”_ Peter shouted, tears running down his face. “I don’t know. At first I thought it wasn’t a big deal, he just didn’t like me. Then I thought I could make him stop, and he did stop for a while- I didn’t know he planned on selling me.”

“Peter,” Yondu said in a pained voice. “Why would you feel like you needed to deal with that all on your own?” 

“I’m not a kid anymore,” he said impatiently. “I shouldn’t need your help for everything.”

“Well, you’re my kid,” Yondu said firmly. “I don’t care how old you are, if you need help, you _come to me_. Got it?” Peter nodded wearily. “And if you don’t think you can talk to me, you go to Kraglin. Or Tullk. Or Horuz, the fuckin' idiot. Point is, kid, you got a lotta people in your corner.” Peter nodded.

“Yeah, I know. And I’m grateful for that, honestly I am, but I shouldn’t _need_ your help. I shoulda been able to make him quit after the first time,” Peter protested.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to prove yourself, son,” Yondu said with a sigh. “You’re a good kid. You’re well-liked, and respected. You ain’t got nothing to prove.” Peter squirmed at the praise.

“Thanks,” he muttered. Yondu sat next to him awkwardly. Usually, Peter required serious cuddles for emotional conversations like these, but Yondu had kept his distance while the kid was mad at him. “Give me a hug,” Peter demanded suddenly, in the same way he’d done as a toddler.

“’Give me a hug,’ the boy says. Who’s the Captain on this ship, anyway?” Yondu mock-grumbled, but he pulled Peter onto his lap, anyway.

“What did you do to him, anyway?” Peter asked curiously. Yondu knew he meant Oro.

“You want to know?” he asked seriously. Most kids were sensitive to violence and death, but Peter was even more so- a strange trait for a kid raised on a Ravager ship.

“Is he gone?” Peter asked hesitantly. Yondu nodded.

“He’s gone.” Yondu very pointedly did not tell Peter the details of the confrontation. Peter nodded- a little unnerved but mostly relieved. They sat there in silence for a few seconds, and it occurred to Yondu that he had one more thing he needed to say.

“I love you, son,” Yondu said strongly. “You know that, right?” Peter grinned. The older man must have really been worried about him; he was rarely so emotional, especially without prodding.

“I love you too, Dad.”

 

The next day, after the healing balm had started to work and Peter’s bruises had faded a bit, Kraglin nonchalantly pulled Peter into a fierce hug. Peter was surprised not only by the action, but by the fact that Kraglin was hugging him _on the bridge._ He probably hadn’t wanted anyone to notice, but Peter decided that was just too bad.

“Dad,” he said slowly, turning to the Captain’s chair. “Dad, I think you’re going to have to throw Kraglin in the brig!”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Yondu asked, his voice full of mirth.

“Why, I think he’s been drinking on shift! He never hugs me if he’s sober!”

“You little _shit!_ ” Kraglin exclaimed, though he didn’t push Peter away. “See if I ever do anything for you again!” Peter ignored that comment and leaned his head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Kraglin,” he said sweetly. Horuz coughed. Kraglin rolled his eyes.

“Kraglin. Kid said he loves you,” Tullk chided laughingly. “Ain’t you gonna say it back?”

“Love you too, you brat,” Kraglin muttered. Peter laughed hysterically when he heard the flash of a camera. He didn’t care who saw him hugging his exasperating big brother.

“Ya’ll’re just too sweet,” Yondu said with a devilish grin. Peter smiled as Kraglin groaned good-naturedly and pretended to be irritated. He was glad to be back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any questions or anything you wanna see in this next chapter, let me know! I haven't actually written it yet (my bad) but I had planned on it being something fluffy about Yondu taking Peter to go shopping for an M-Ship.  
> Also, s/o to izzybelw for the idea for that last interaction between Peter and Kraglin, specifically the "What? Kraglin must be drunk if he's hugging me" joke- that had me laughing so hard!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't get this out sooner guys! This is just short and fluffy because that is what Peter and Yondu deserve.

Peter bounced eagerly on his toes. After making him rest for a day, Yondu had agreed to take him to look at M-Ships.  


“Come on, Dad!” he called impatiently. Yondu was sitting on the bed, tugging on his boots- and taking his sweet time about it, too.  


“Relax, kid. Ships’ll still be there when we get there,” Yondu told him, smirking. Sure, this was supposed to be a special trip for Peter, but things just wouldn't be right in the world if Yondu wasn't teasing him.  


“Well...” Peter floundered, “what if we see the perfect ship but it’s been bought by someone who got there just before we did?” Yondu sniggered.  


“I thought we was just lookin’ today,” he teased. “Your birthday ain’t for another half a cycle, almost.” Peter squirmed uncomfortably, unsure if he was kidding or not.  


“Well-” Yondu took pity on him, finally getting up and clapping him on the shoulder.  


“Whatchu waitin’ for? Let’s go!” Peter rolled his eyes, but he jogged after his dad. He’d been waiting on this moment for ages. Ever since he’d first come aboard, at four years old, he’d been fascinated by all of the ships in the hangar. He’d pestered his dad about having his own so much that Yondu had exasperatedly told him he could when he was fourteen years old- probably expecting the four year old to forget that promise. When it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, Yondu had started teaching him how to fly. Mini-lessons at first, designed more to entertain than to teach, but as Peter got older, they became more complex. At thirteen, he could pretty much pilot any ship in the hangar by himself. As long as he remembered to turn off the emergency break.  


As they stepped inside the dealership (and Peter highly appreciate the pun there), his mouth dropped wide open. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Yondu asked him, smiling softly. Peter could tell he hadn’t quite gotten the events of the past few days out of his mind.  


“Dad. I’m fine,” he said seriously.  


“I know that,” Yondu replied without heat.  


“Good,” Peter said. Then he grinned. “Channel your guilt into buying an awesome ship for me.” Yondu rolled his eyes, reaching over to ruffle his hair.  


“Go look around, then,” Yondu told him, and that was all the prompting Peter needed. He ran from ship to ship like a little kid, rattling off stats about their engines and durability that Yondu himself wouldn’t have known. _The kid did his research,_ he realized. He’d expected today to be more of a ‘try to decide what we’re looking for’ day, but Peter probably knew exactly what he wanted.  


He hadn’t exactly expected to drop a pile of units on a ship today, but after the week Peter had had, Yondu didn’t much mind.  


“Were you listening, Dad?” Peter asked, interrupting his thoughts. Yondu gave a half grin, shrugging. “I said I don’t think they have what I want here. I was looking for the wider body style with the newer engine style, but all they have here’s the new, narrower ones.” Yondu nodded.  


“Might be we have to get it custom- wait. Peter.” Peter looked at him expectantly. “You just described that old rust bucket I taught you to fly on!” Peter laughed. It was true- he'd perfectly described the M-Ship Yondu taught him to fly with. It was a real hunk of junk- Yondu didn't want to risk him wrecking one of the good ones after a close call with his Warbird.  


“Hey, I guess I did. Must have stuck with me,” he admitted. Yondu looked at him seriously.  


“If that’s really what you want... We can fix it up. Take a lot of work to get it ready for your birthday, but...” Yondu trailed off, a little unsure. Maybe it was a stupid idea, surely the kid would want something that required less work. He was surprised when Peter suddenly threw his arms around him.  


“That sounds perfect,” Peter said sincerely. Yondu smiled- and not because he’d just saved himself 50,000 units. 

Six months and countless hours of work later, the ship was finished. They’d basically gutted the inside, putting in new furniture and updating the electronics. The engine crew had surprised Peter with finding a way to wire him a music player that would play his tape. Most of the crew had helped in some minor task in some way or another, and Kraglin and Yondu helped a fair bit, but Peter did the majority of the work, even repainting it. That had happened a couple times, actually- Peter wasn’t a terribly skilled painter. Yondu had half expected him to get bored with the task and leave him to finish it or ask for another M-Ship. To his surprise, Peter had seen the task through, and picked up a lot of skills while doing it.  


“It looks good, Pete,” Yondu said sincerely.  


“She’s called the Milano,” Peter said proudly.  


“Not a bad name. Where’d you get it from?” Kraglin asked. Peter blushed, and mumbled something. “Huh?”  


“It’s the name of those cookies I like,” he muttered. Yondu and Kraglin laughed uproariously. “They’re good cookies!” he defended himself even as he laughed. He sank down into the pilot seat, grinning. On the console was one of Yondu’s trinkets- the one with the wobbling rocket that he’d always admired when he was little. Surprised, he glanced at Yondu, who just smirked.  


Peter grinned back at him. He had a pretty cool dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I stole the idea of Peter naming the ship after Milano cookies from "ain't no thing like me" by perfectlight, which is a lovely story about girl Peter (Petra) Quill.


End file.
